Chinese People

Joel has picked up on the fact that people from different countries speak different languages. He hears me talk about my online French friends, Isabelle and Renee. Our friends, the Blums, visited with us from Israel in the summer, and Ya'el was here again in November and December, to teach Hebrew. Of course Joel hears Spanish every time we eat at La Tolteca or go to Walmart. A couple of times we've had Chinese students in our home, but he was too young to remember.

Yesterday we were driving home from Bible study, and out of the blue came Joel's funny question. "Mom, what do Chinese people talk? French, Hebrew, or Spanish?"

I said, "Most Chinese people speak Chinese, honey."

"They do?" he asked, as if Chinese people are far superior because they speak an altogether foreign language!

Little Arrows

Paul shaves every day except Saturday in a normal week. Yesterday Stephen had a noontime game on a typical Saturday. Joel, Paul, and I went to watch it.

Sitting in the bleachers, Joel was being very snuggly and Paul was returning the affection. At one point Joel rubbed his face against his daddy's rough whiskers. Immediately he jerked back.

"Ouch! What are those? Little arrows or somethin'?"

Joel then leaned over to me, rubbed his cheek against mine. "You're soft. You don't have any arrows!"

Kindergarten Theologian

Ethan is a year older than Joel and his best friend. He came over to play a few nights ago. After three and a half hours in each other's company, they started getting on each other's nerves temporarily. They were in the recliner together and Ethan said or did something and Joel got angry. I looked over and saw Joel's fist clutched, apparently ready to slug this same kid he's been beggin to have over for weeks.

Ethan looked sternly at him as with the power of God and said, "Friends don't hit friends. Do you want to go to heaven or hell?"

Joel thought about it and relaxed his fist.